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BROWN STUDIES 



Brown Studies 



BY 



MRS. B. F. A. BEELER 



NEW YORK 

THE COSMOPOLITAN PRESS 

1911 






Copyright, 1911, by 
MRS. E. F. A. BEELER 



CI. A 3 34 19 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

T HE SEVEN AGES 7 

A PAIR OF DREAMS 31 

C LIPPINGS FROM AN ) 

[ 35 

O LD MAID'S DIARY ) 

M ISCELLANEOUS VERSES 42 

A DAY'S RECKONING 60 



BROWN STUDIES 



THE SEVEN AGES 



One summer morning he was born; 

His home stood on a wild sea-eoast — 
A cabin, — and of all forlorn 

And lonely dwellings 'twas the most. 

One window and a door in front; 

A huge stone chimney at the rear; 
A garden-plot where 'twas the wont 

Of flowers to riot year by year 

With plants more useful. Near the door 
A rough-hewn wooden bench was placed, 

And rude stone door-step, half grown o'er 
With ivy vines. The cabin faced 

The open sea; to left and right 
Long stretches of gray cliff were lined; 

Backward a village stood in sight 
With miles of moor lying behind. 

In this still place his infant eyes 
First opened to the light of day, 



BROWN STUDIES 



And gazed with innocent surprise 
At all that in his vision lay. 

His father was a fisherman, 
Earning by toil his daily food; 

Beginning when each day began, 
And ending when his luck was good. 

His mother (once a comely maid) 
Had caused her good man no regrets ; 

But cooked the meals and gave her aid 
To daily mending of the nets. 

Thus humbly was his life begun. 

To this poor, lone, hard-working pair 
His coming was a welcome one — 

Making their lonely lives less bare; 

And that bright, sunny, summer morn 
When he appeared, they onward from, 

Made eager efforts to adorn 

Their cheerless little cabin-home. 

The dull outside (unpainted since 
Its building) soon wore coat of red; 

The inner walls with paper prints 

(Gifts of the village store) were spread. 

The village children lent their aid, 
And long, tough grasses of the moor 

Were braided into mats and laid 
Upon the little cabin floor. 

8 



BROWN STUDIES 



With him as chiefest ornament 

To brighten their life's dull routine, 

His parents lived in calm content, 
As happy as a king and queen. 

Each day they rose before the sun, 

And fed their fowls and milked their goats; 

Then when the morning meal was done 
They started for the fishing-boats, 

The husband bearing on his back 
The heavy nets; the wife with both 

Arms full — one with her husband's snack, 
The other with the babe; and loth 

To stay behind, she ev'ry morn 

Would watch the boats glide out to sea 

And feel new joy that he was born 
To keep her pleasant company. 

And he was all the child they had. 

The years went swiftly by. He grew 
A hearty, robust, handsome lad. 

At twelve the village school-ma'am knew 

He'd learned all that she could impart. 

Some far-off kin then sent him books; 
He read and learned them all by heart. 

At fifteen he was changed in looks. 



9 



BROWN STUDIES 



II 

His heart was waking to new things. 

Each day he scanned the restless deep 
And grudged the wild free birds their wings- 

The passing ships their unchecked sweep; 

Longing for that which he had not 
Yet found within his narrow scope, 

But which, by right were his, he thought. 
His bosom swelled with joyous hope 

To think that sometime he would be 
A man, but not like those he knew. 

He loved his parents well, but he 
Must sometime bid them fond adieu 

And go to some place far removed, 
Where fortunes glittered (so to speak) 

In new fields, lying all unproved 
For those who cared to go and seek. 

On week days he was happiest, 
He helped his father with the fish, 

Thus finding vent for his unrest; 
But Sundays were his days to wish 

For all those things as yet unfound. 

Alone he strolled and dreamed and read. 
The simple fisher-folks around 

All wondered. " Queer lad!" many said. 

His parents watched him day by day, 
And, heedful of his restlessness, 

10 



BROWN STUDIES 



Grew anxious and began to pray 
Deep in their hearts for God to bless 

Their handsome lad, and give to him 
A cheerful and contented heart. 

Ofttimes his mother's eyes were dim 
With tears to see him sit apart 

From all the village girls and boys — 
Not caring for their simple sports; 

Unsympathetic to the joys 

The average youngster gladly courts. 

And then at length a letter came, 

And they who sent the books now wished 

To see this lad of lofty aim 
Who built air castles while he fished. 

Of funds, they said, there was no dearth; 

They wished, to place him in a school 
Known the world over for its worth, 

Where thorough training was the rule. 

They sent two hundred-dollar notes, 

All his expenses to defray, 
If he would leave the fishing boats 

And come at once with them to stay. 

Now, when this letter was all read, 
There sat a much astonished three; 

The father's heart then sank like lead; 
The mother heaved a sigh, but he 

11 



BROWN STUDIES 



Sprang to his feet and laughed with joy. 

His parents knew the die was cast! 
The time was coming when their boy 

Would realize his dreams at last. 

The father now would tend alone 
The boats and sell the fish each day; 

The mother would be sadder grown — 
And lonely, with her boy away. 

But naught of this e'er passed their lips. 

They took him to a neighboring town 
Whose harbor boasted many ships, 

And ere the next day's sun went down, 

He sailed away to heed the call 

Of that for which his heart had yearned, 
And those who loved him best of all 

With heavy hearts homeward returned. 



ni 



He sailed away, leaving behind 
The one small corner of the earth 

Which had been his, and did not mind 
How lonely now was its home-hearth; 

And, as he crossed the ocean plane, 
Regret nor illness came to vex 

His youthful body, heart or brain. 
Daily he paced the steamer decks 

12 



BROWN STUDIES 



And gloried in the great, new change 
Of his own life. He made a few 

Acquaintances among the strange 
But friendly passengers and crew; 

But only one of all he met 

On shipboard seemed to understand 

The lad who could so soon forget 
His parents and his native land; 

And that one was a gentleman 

Whose well-bred air and fine-cut face 

Proclaimed to all who cared to scan 
The scion of a gentle race; 

And he it was who loved to draw 
In conversation all the best 

Of the lad's nature, and who saw 
With an increasing interest 

Those indications hard to find 
In one so youthful — the sincere 

Strong purpose of a brilliant mind — 
The blossom of a grand career — 

The sparks of a new-kindled fire 
Burning in an ambitious soul, 

Fed by a hungering desire 

For wealth and fame as final goal. 

Then when this voyage 'cross the sea 
Was well-nigh through, one day the lad 

13 



BROWN STUDIES 



Discovered accidentally 

That this man and his kinfolks had 

Long been acquainted, and his friend 
Now held in friendliest regard 

Those who were, at his journey's end, 
To greet him as their future ward. 

And thus was fixed, still more and more, 
'Twixt boy and man a friendship fast; 

Then when the long voyage was o'er 
The lad began to know at last 

Fulfillment of his cherished schemes; 

And entered the broad, flowery ways 
Which ne'er before — save in his dreams — 

Had spread themselves beneath his gaze; 

The paths of learning, where ahead 
Were many laurels yet unearned; 

The gay haunts of the wealthy-bred, 
With all their pleasures yet unlearned; 

And all those labyrinths by which 

Men of the world attain their ends, — 

Winning renown, becoming rich, 
Gaining positon, love, and friends; 

All these broad paths he entered, and 
With healthful energy and zest 

Untiring, and on ev'ry hand, 

Encountered naught but vast success. 

14 



BROWN STUDIES 



Twelve years passed. He was in his prime; 

His life's vocation had long since 
Been chosen, and the sands of time 

Had favored him, bearing no prints 

Of early poverty, or aught 

To show his humble origin. 
That, and his parents were forgot! 

He now made ready to begin 

The crowning triumph of his life — 
The wooing of a handsome maid, 

The winning of a wealthy wife. 
Of failure he was not afraid. 



IV 



The kinfolks who had aided him 
In gaining that which he desired 

Had died within the interim 

And left him all they had acquired; 

So why should he feel fear? He knew 
The value of his bank account. 

Judged from a worldly point of view, 
He was quite fit. He'd climbed the mount 

Of his ambition, and could well 
Brush weightier matters now aside, 

To woo the handsome, haughty belle 
Whom he had chosen for his bride. 

15 



BROWN STUDIES 



She was the daughter of that friend 
Whom he had met twelve years ago 

Aboard ship, and who, at the end 
Of their sea-voyage, brought to know 

The wife — a cultured, stylish dame; 

And daughter; then a household pet 
Of ten, too shy to speak his name; 

But now a vain, heartless coquette. 

Of failure he need have no fears, 
For, from the first was laid a plan 

Which had been fostered all these years — 
A scheme through which this maid and man 

Would some day wed, thus furthering 

Each mercenary interest. 
He knew, and felt the shadowing 

Of doubt, which sometimes came to rest 

Upon his soul, yet did not heed 

Those promptings of his conscience, nor 

Attempt to lessen his great greed 
For social prominence, and for 

The wealth which each to each would bring; 

The prestige which her noble name 
And lineage would, through marrying, 

Reflect upon himself. Wealth, fame, 

These were the guiding stars that shone 
On this man's path of life, wherein 

16 



BROWN STUDIES 



Love had no place; and there was none 
To give him warning. Bound to win, 

Thus did he choose from her own gay 
And giddy world his butterfly 

Of fickle fashion; then one day 

They were betrothed, and by-and-by, 

With all the fine formalities 
And showy ceremonials which 

Are used among the families 

Of that gay clique, the ultra-rich, 

These two were wed. Then was begun 
Their future fate as man and wife; 

And he was proud of having won 
All he had coveted in life. 

Of fine appearance, sound in health, 
Possessed of learning and a host 

Of friends, a handsome wife, and wealth, 
Less cultured man than he might boast 

Of lesser victories achieved 
In longer time. He was content 

With inward plaudits, and believed 
Himself quite happy. Then he spent 

With his young wife a year abroad, 
Seeing those things as yet unlearned — 

The wondrous works of man and God; 
One fleeting year, then they returned 

17 



BROWN STUDIES 



(Both wiser grown in many ways) 
To their old home and he and she 

Both settled down to spend their days 
As leaders of society! 

And far away across the seas, 

On either side a home's hearth-stone 

With naught of joy save memories, 
His parents sat — sad and alone. 



Time then flew fast. First a small lad, 
And then a lassie came to bless 

His life and hers, and he was glad; 
And, in the pride of his success, 

He asked himself this question oft, 

"What would I have that I have not?" 

And deep down in his soul a soft 
Voice answered him, "Have ye no thought 

Of that which this world cannot give? 

Know ye a certainty of joys 
To come when mortals cease to live?" 

But always did he hush the voice, 

And ever did he seek some new 

Sensation or experience. 
Then as his son and daughter grew, 

He lavished on them much expense. 

18 



BROWN STUDIES 



Determined they should have the best 

A wealthy father could afford, 
They were well-fed, well-schooled, well-dressed; 

And 'round them ceaselessly were poured 

The -blessings youthful hearts e'er crave — 
Amusements, books, and music; yet 

At times this father's heart grew grave 
With a newborn but large regret. 

He knew that these two children lacked 
That of which they stood most in need — 

The ever-watchful care and tact 
Of mother-love; for they indeed 

Might well have been called motherless, 

So little care she granted them. 
Her entire life was spent in dress 

And social joys. A sparkling gem 

Held more of beauty to her eyes 

Than children's faces, while men's chaff 
And witless compliments and lies 

Meant more to her ears than the laugh 

Of happy childhood. Their young cheeks 

Were so unused to being kissed 
By mother-lips, that, for whole weeks, 

She saw them not, yet was not missed! 

Thus the whole training of the pair 
Was trusted to a well-paid set 

19 



BROWN STUDIES 



Of hireling's; and while doubtless there 
Were some good souls among them, yet 

They paid but very little heed 

To moral education, and 
They thought perhaps there was no need — 

A high-born child would understand 

Instinctively, without their aid, 

The difference 'twixt right and wrong. 

And so was the foundation laid 
For future sorrow; and ere long 

The father felt this sick'ning truth, 

Yet could not remedy the fact: 
The finest qualities of youth, 

He found, were those his children lacked! 

Truth, modesty, filial respect, 

Honor and depth of character — 
He claimed the right to thus expect 

This much from them if not from her 

Who was their mother, yet was not — 

Who, posing as a social queen, 
Neglected those of whom her thought 

Should have been first. When just eighteen 

The daughter was betrothed to one 
Who had much money, but few brains, 

And was soon wedded. Then the son 
A fast-lived youth, who took no pains 

20 



BROWN STUDIES 



To keep his dissipations hid 

From the world's eyes or ears, and who 
Had spent a fortune, at last did 

The thing that he was sure to do! 

Under the influence of wine, 

And plunged in debts up to his neck. 
Not only did he dare to sign 

His father's name to a large check, 

But took part in a gambling brawl 
In which the party who began 

The fuss was killed; and he of all 
Was the accused and guilty man! 

Thus did the father's griefs begin. 
He saw his son before the bar 

Of justice, charged with blackest sin- 
Saw him convicted and sent far 

Away to serve his penalty; 

And then was brought unto his ears 
Tales of his own wife's perfidy; 

She'd been untrue to him for years, 

And, with another, now had flown 
Far from the scenes of their downfall 

(But where by him was never known). 
Then came the grief, to him, of all 

The worst — his daughter — yet a bride, 
Crazed by her own unhappiness 

21 



BliOWN STUDIES 



And family disgrace, had died 
By her own hand! In his distress 

He stood beside his dead child's tomb 
And asked himself, "What need to live? 

The world will miss not those to whom 
The world has nothing more to give!" 

His wealth was squandered; his good name 
Was tarnished, and the one he most 

Cared for was dead. Bowed down with shame, 
He stood, confronted by the ghost 

Of that first great mistake of his — 

The forerunner of his ill luck: 
Misplaced ambition. Ah, 'twas this 

Which caused it all ! His old-time pluck 

Then 'roused itself. He tried to thrust 
From him the mem'ry of his wife 

And son, thinking there surely must 
Be something yet for him in life. 



VI 



Thoughts of his parents filled his mind. 

He'd go to them far, far away, 
And leave this muddled life behind. 

He longed to go — he could not stay. 

Without a warning, was his plan, 
To step inside their cabin door 

22 



BROWN STUDIES 



Saying, "Your boy is now a man, 
Who gladly comes to you once more; 

For he is weary of the world 

Behind, and deems it as well lost; 

His soul is worn from being whirled 
In seas of passion tempest-tossed; 

With heart and brain both craving rest 
He comes to ask of you the boon 

Of shelter as a welcome guest, — 

Such blessing cannot come too soon." 

And then he pictured their surprise 
To thus behold him standing there. 

Glad tears would fill his mother's eyes; 
His father's rugged face would wear 

A smile of welcome. 

• • > • • • « 

Yes, he'd go! 

With this new resolution formed, 
His sluggish blood began to flow 

More quickly, and his chilled heart warmed 

To newly kindled fires of hope, 
While memories, but late aroused, 

Were given free and ample scope. 

The place where he was fed and housed 

Grew hateful more and more each day 
He lingered there. When he at last, 

23 



BROWN STUDIES 



With his belongings stole away, 

He could but think of that day past 

When he had left his boyhood's home 
With something like this same relief, 

Braving the briny ocean-foam — 

For what? At last he knew the grief 

His parents that day must have known, 
When he — their one beloved child — 

Left them all lonely and alone. 
Remorse beset him. He was wild 

With fierce impatience to be there 
Amid those scenes once so despised. 

Those dear ones now would be his care. 
He ne'er before had realized 

The cruelty and heartlessness 

Of his past conduct toward these two; 
But his atonement now would bless 

Them both. 'Twas all that he could do. 

Thus ran his thoughts the voyage through. 

His own peculiar, sorry fate 
Had wrought the change in him. He knew 

And understood now, though 'twas late, 

Such agonies as might have been 
Unknown — regrets which might have lain 

Inert, had death, disgrace, and sin 
Not caused his heart to feel the pain — 

24 



BROWN STUDIES 



So hard to bear — so hard to heal 
When cherished idols turn to dust! 

That pain which only parents feel 

He now felt, knowing 'twas but just. 

The voyage ended. All enthused 

With his new mission, he made haste 

To seek the hamlet which he used 
To call his home. The barren waste 

Of land through which his pathway lay, 
Was still as desolate as when 

His steps were turned the other way 
So long ago. Expecting then 

To see such changes as are wrought 

Sometimes by time, he reached the place, 

And found it' the same quiet spot. 
With eager eyes and quickened pace 

He walked toward the humble hut 
Standing apart and wearing still 

Its coat of once red brilliance, but 
Now dingy hue. The window-sill 

On either side boasted a pot 

Of blooming flowers. His heart now kept 
Time with his steps. The garden-plot 

Showed recent care. The ivy crept 



25 



BROWN STUDIES 



Around the doorstep just the same 
As in the past. As he drew nigh 

The door flew ope — a buxom dame 
Regarded him with questioning eye. 



vn 

Suspicion marked her attitude. 

What curious stranger now was this 
Who walked up to her door and stood 

As if the house and all were his? 

Her sharp-voiced queries soon awoke 
The man from his strange lethargy; 

Then he removed his hat and spoke 
The necessary inquiry. 

And this is what the woman said: 

"Are you their son? Can it be true? 

Too late! — your parents are both dead. 
We tried to send the news to you 

Three times, but always 'twas returned. 

'Tis two years since your mother died. 
Your father pined and grieved and yearned 

For her six months. Now side by side 

They lie in yonder burial-place, 
And you, who left them here alone 

So many years, had best retrace 
Your steps, — and let it not be known 

26 



BROWN STUDIES 



That you are here, for you must know 
These fisher-folks think very ill 

Of you, and would soon tell you so. 
Avoid their curses and ill-will 

And go enjoy your friends and pelf! 

Your parents both died blessing you. 
I nursed and tended them myself, 

And did for them what I could do. 

They left me this," (waving a hand 
To indicate the small homestead). 
i€ 'Tis ample payment for me, and 
You can do nothing for your dead 

That I have not already done." 
Then with a sudden, swift remorse 

Her voice softened: "So you're their son! 
You don't remember me of course, — 

I, too, have changed. When a wee wench 
'Twas you I worshipped from afar 

As you sat reading on yon bench. 
I know you now for what you are, 

And only pity you. Out there" 
(Pointing a finger towards the sea) 
"Is my good man, but I've two fair 
Sons who've not yet deserted me!" 

"Forbear, good woman! I cannot 

Endure much more," he hoarsely cried; 
Go with me — show me to the spot 
Where they are lying side by side." 



a 



27 



BROWN STUDIES 



When they had reached the spot he found 
The graves both green and neatly kept — 

A modest stone marking each mound. 
He threw himself face down and wept 

For shame, for grief, and for despair. 

Then, as the shades of night drew nigh, 
He left once more the hamlet, where 

Was neither welcome nor good-by. 

And then began the bitt'rest part 
Of life that he as yet had known. 

Weary of bod} 7 , sick of heart, 

Homeless and friendless and alone, 

He wandered here and wandered there — 
Careless that funds were growing low; 

Finding no comfort anywhere. 
Then he decided he would go 

Back to his old-time residence, 
The city where he once did dwell 

In gilded ease and opulence. 

His erstwhile friends, he knew full well, 

Would scarcely rcognize in him 
The proud, ambitious gentleman 

Of olden days. His eyes grew dim 
With tears at first, then he began 

To nurse an anger deep and dark 
'Gainst those who once sat 'round his board- 

28 



BROWN STUDIES 



Men of the world who made their mark 
As high as he yet were not lowered, 

But worshipped still their gods of gold ; 

And women, frivolous and vain 
As they were fair and cruel-eold 

To all the suffering and pain 

Of those low in the social scale. 

Well did he know himself to be 
Forever now beyond the pale 

Of what they called " society. " 

All hypocrites they were at most; 

But a determination grim 
Beset him. He would face the host 

Of old-time friends! — 'twould prove to him 

If there was one good hypocrite, 

Just one! to grasp his hand and smile, 

And lift him from the darksome pit 
Of his despair. After awhile 

There came his chance. He reached the place 
From which he (six months back) had fled. 

He saw each old friend face to face, 
And one by one they cut him dead ! 

Bereft of family and wealth, 

Owning no roof but heaven's dome, 

Broken in spirit and in health, 

He sought a poor man's humble home, 

29 



BROWN STUDIES 



And begged a place beneath his roof, 
For which he paid a paltry sum 

Per week, and there he lived — sad proof 
Of what a great man may become! 

And as the chilly autumn wind 
Grew more severe he grew more gaunt. 

And though his humble friends were kind 
He often felt the sting of want. 

Mid scenes of poverty forlorn. 

With naught of princely pomp or pride, 
One summer morning he was born — 

One stormy winter night he died. 



30 



BROWN STUDIES 



A PAIR OF DREAMS 



A SONG-TITLE DREAM 

Once, In the Silent Hours of Night, 

I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls, 
Where Bygone Days and youth's delight 

As shadows were on memory's walls; 
For ah, methought that I had crossed 

A golden bridge — The Bridge of Sighs, 
And Far Away were you, and lost 

Was love. 

Then out 'neath starlit skies, 
Methought, Alone, yet not Alone, 

All in a Garden Fair I stood; 
It Seemed that the Pale Moon Sadly Shone 

In Sympathy with my sad mood. 
"Oh, Were I but a Moonlight's Ray, 

I'd back where Love Abides/ ' said I; 
"If Sighs had Wings how swift away 

My messengers to love would fly!" 

And in my dream the hours were long — 

The Sweetest Story ever Told 
Was done — and hushed Love's Old Sweet Song; 

Then, Just across the Bridge of Gold, 
I, Looking Back, saw you once more, 

And quickly did my soul rejoice; 
You stood in Loveland — on its shore — 

Although So Far Away, your voice 

31 



BROWN STUDIES 



Brought to my strained and list'ning ear 

A message I can ne'er forget; 
It Came Upon the Midnight Clear, 
"All's Well! I Live and Love Thee Yet!" 
My heart then with Repentance fraught, 

From choosing wrong twixt Love and Pride, 
Leaped as I Never Would Have Thought. 
"My Love is Calling me/' I cried, 

"Why Among the Shadows longer yearn, 

When love is All the World to Me? 
Across the Bridge I'll now return." 

Alas! It Was Not Thus to Be, 
For, when I sought to cross The Bridge, 

I found it was no longer there; 
My eyes then sought the moonlit ridge 

Where you had stood, and found it bare 

Save for the stealthy waves that crept 

Athwart its once untroubled sands. 
"It is The Last Good-night," I wept 

Despairingly and wrung my hands; 
And swift and sudden as I spoke 

The world grew barren of all gleam 
Of light. In terror I awoke — 

So glad to find It Was a Dream. 

SEQUEL TO A SONG-TITLE DREAM 

Last night I hearkened Jessie's Dream, 
And of all Jingles, Jokes, and Rhymes 

That dreamers give us, it did seem 
The most unique; but I, at times, 

32 



BROWN STUDIES 



Have also had some visions queer, 
And fain would tell as well if I 

But had the power. Sweet Jessie, Dear 
Inspires me with, "Why Don't You Try?' 

And so I will — Coax Me no more! 

I'm but a Merry Farmer's Boy, 
'Tis true, but till Life's Dream is O'er 

Dreaming will ever bring me joy. 
'Twas Just One Year ago to-day 

This dream began which I now tell, 
And you — a Little Girl in Gray — 

Was drawing water from a well; 

And I, my heart all pit-a-pat 

With boyish admiration quelled, 
Was Teasing for a draught from that 

Old Oaken Bucket which you held; 
And Just for Sociability, 

Then, side by side, we both did quaff 
The water Ah! so Pure! Then we 

United in a merry laugh; 

And your sweet Message of the Eyes 

Changed me straightway from boy to man, 
Filling my heart with sweet surprise; 

'Twas thus The Lover's Dream began, 
And since, while wand 'ring here and there, 

I'm Dreaming of my Darling's Face; 
Your Lips, Your Eyes, Your Golden Hair 

In visions follow me apace, 



33 



BROWN STUDIES 



Till I have come with heart awhirl, 

To crave from you another boon — 
I Want You for My All-time Girl 

E'er wanes again yon fair June Moon; 
And Just Because I Love You So, 

My Dear, and just Because You're You, 
How much I want you, you will know 

Some Day — Some Day When Dreams Come 
True; 

So whisper softly in my ear 

And tell me when that day will be ; 
Smile On Me with Your Eyes so Dear 

Now, and For all Eternity. 

• • • • • • • 

I Hear a Whisper in the Air — 

'Tis Love's Reply, and quick does make 
My dream so much more wondrous fair, 

I care not ever to awake. 



34 



BROWN STUDIES 



CLIPPINGS FROM AN OLD 
MAID'S DIARY 



A schoolgirl slender, shy, and "sweet sixteen,' ' 
With eyes as blue as yon blue skies above, 

Ringlets of gold in soft and silken sheen, 
And heart as guileless as a turtle-dove; 
No thought had she of lovers, or of love 

Till Tom appeared one day upon the scene, 

Then, presto ! — now what can the dear child mean 
As in her diary she writes thereof? 

"I know now what the tender passion is! 
I am a queen and I have met my king ! 
Tom loves me — he is mine and I am his; 
But what will papa say, I'm wondering — 
And mamma too? Ah! would they be en- 
raged 
To know that Tom and I are now engaged?" 



n 

Another careless year behind her lies. 
Less shy, but fuller-formed and redder-lipped 
Is she, but still a schoolgirl. Pa was wise — 
Her "tender passion" in its bud was nipped 

36 



BROWN STUDIES 



Remorselessly, and Tom, "her king," has 
skipped 
Away, leaving "his queen' ' to tears and sighs; 
Then Dick comes, and she wipes her tearful eyes 

And writes thus in her private manuscript : 

"Dear Dick and I have planned how some fine 
day 
We will elope. (Dick's handsome but he's 
not 
A dollar, — but what's money, anyway, 

Compared to love in some dear little cot?) 
On bread and cheese and kisses we will live, 
Trusting that some day papa will forgive." 



in 

Now one more year is gone, and she is through 
With schoolbooks. As a "sweet girl graduate" 

She's had her say (and looked most charming too) ! 
And then — all eager to investigate 
The flowery paths of Fashion that await 

Her footsteps, she, amid a great ado 

Of social meteors, makes her debut. 

Then Harry comes. She writes thus of her fate : 

"Harry does say the sweetest things to me! 

I adore a man who's good at compliment. 
He's handsome too. I rather think we'd be 

A striking couple. If pa will consent, 
I think when Harry asks me I'll say yes; 
Then life for us will be all happiness." 

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BROWN STUDIES 



IV 

Three more years pass and she is twenty-one, — 

Tom, Dick, and Harry are things of the past. 
She thinks she's been a little simpleton, 

And settles down to good, sound sense at last. 

Offers of marriage have come thick and fast 
But prudent grown, she has accepted none; 
Deeming herself most worthy to be won, 

'Tis thus her thoughts on paper now are cast : 

"I've just decided to give Charlie up. 

Handsome is he, but poor as a church-mouse. 
I'll make a brilliant marriage yet, I hope, 

And be the mistress of some lordly house. 
My own attractiveness is evident; 
I can afford to wait and be content.' ' 



Another year goes by. Her life still teems 
With social joys and fashionable delights. 

At twenty-one she meets with one who deems 
Her as his soul's true mate, and he invites 
Her now to share with him the hard-earned heights 

His intellect has won. At times he seems 

To be the hero of her maiden-dreams; 

But there is something lacking, so she writes 

Of her decision in that book of books — 
Her diary: "I've just refused poor Ned. 

I know he's wealthy, and I like his looks, 
And I know, too, he's clever and well-bred; 
But he is far too prosy and lacks style. 
I'm sure to meet the right one after 'while." 

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VI 

The next two years are passed in ceaseless quest 
Of that " right one," while traits, till now, inert 

Within her nature spring to life. The zest 
Of her admirers wanes. She — e'er alert — 
Perceives the change. Her vanity is hurt. 

Bound to arouse anew their interest, 

She trifles with men's hearts and now, as best, 
Is looked upon as an outrageous flirt! 

And thus she writes her inmost thoughts once more 
"I wonder why I'm still unmarried now, 

And why 'he' never comes! I'm twenty-four! 
I believe I've been a fool, but, anyhow, 
My next offer I'll quick as light 'ning flash, 
Accept, (that is, if he has got the cash) ! ' ' 

VII 

At twenty-five her air is not so gay, 
At twenty-six her cheeks are not so pink. 

The scarcity of lovers she, each day, 
Now realizes, and begins to think 
Cash is not indispensable. The brink 

Of spinsterhood is now not far away. 

At twenty-eight she hopes that yet she may 
Have one more offer, and with pen and ink 

Writes down her maiden hopes, without a fear: 
" I mean to wed as soon now as I can. 
A quiet marriage, then the cosy cheer 

Of my own home — the love of a good man, 
And little children playing 'round the fire — 
This is my fondest dream and my desire." 

38 



BROWN STUDIES 



VIII 

At twenty-nine she finds herself surprised. 

Another year has glided swiftly by 
And still her dream remains unrealized. 

She feels so bad about it she could cry! 

She never has an offer now, and why? 
With all her manly friends she's sympathized, 
And danced, and chatted, and sometimes advised,- 

But vainly. Then she thinks, "No use to try!" 

And thus at thirty, in her diary 

She writes: "I'm so unhappy — I'm afraid 

I'll never find the right one now. Dear me, 
I'll die if anyone calls me 'old maid!' " 

Then in her great despair and restlessness, 

She spends more time and care upon her dress. 

IX 

At thirty-two she gives up dancing, "For 

(She writes) "at all the balls that I attend, 
The men are such poor partners. I abhor 

Bad dancing, and I hate to snub a friend. 

I've pondered o'er it, and now, at the end, 
Am sure I'll either have to snub them, or 
Not go. I'll choose the latter method nor 

Will I regret it." Then things of this trend 

She also writes at age of thirty-three: 
"I wonder why a man is such a fool! 
He'll leave at all times the society 
Of women sensible, and as a rule 
Prefers a corner, where for hours he'll sit 
And flirt with some impertinent young chit." 

39 



BROWN STUDIES 



At thirty-four she hears some startling news: 

Her lifelong friend (her own age) is to be 
Soon wedded to a wealthy bachelor whose 

Regard she once did crave (but secretly). 
The bosom friend is interviewed and she 
Declares she wouldn't be in that friend's shoes 
For worlds! A wordy quarrel then ensues 
In which they both agree to disagree; 

Then, in the sacred precincts of her room 
She writes once more the secrets of her soul, 

And pities all her women-friends for whom 
Marriage, it seems, is the life-given role: 
"They're mostly married now while I'm still free, 

But wait awhile, we'll see what we will see." 



XI 

And she does find much comfort in the woes 
And sad misfortunes that come now and then 

To married people, although some of those 
Are her best friends. She's rated all the men, 
And pitied women o'er and o'er again 

Till with good reason one might now suppose, 

As time goes on, her friends would turn to foes; 
Not so! They all forgive her, and lo! when 

She's reached the good ripe age of thirty-six, 

Her private writings tell how she decides 
To mind her own affairs and no more mix 

40 



BROWN STUDIES 



In other people's! Hence, she now abides 
In peace — a fine old maid with not 
A care on earth, and contented with her lot. 

xn 

(WHAT SHE WILL PBOBABLY WRITE TEN YEAB8 HENCE) 

"By my own fireside with my dog and cat, 

(Not burdened either with false friends or pelf) 

I sit as I so many times have sat 

Thinking of Life and Fate (the fickle elf) ! 

With cheer in plenty on my pantry shelf 
And welcome always gracing my doormat 
For those who seek me, (and thank God for that) ! 

I smile contentedly and ask myself: 

" 'What have I ever yet found to regret 

Along the path of life's appointed role?' 
And my reply is, 'Not one thing!' and yet 
I know deep down within my inmost soul 
I'd not so dread the shady side of life, 
Were I but someone's mother — someone's wife!" 



41 



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MISCELLANEOUS VERSES 



JUNE TIME 



A warm, sweet night in June; 
A paling, waning moon, 

Low in the sky; 
A farmhouse portico 
Where climbing roses grow; 

And you and I 
By differences beset, 
Are unrelenting met 

To say good-by. 

Rich scent of fruit and flowers 
From trees and garden bowers; 

Soft winds that sway 
The rustling eglantine; 
Two voices (yours and mine) 

Eager to say 
Our doom — in fierce unrest — 
Agreeing that 'tis best 

To part for aye! 

A meeting of cold lips; 
A touch of finger tips; 
(A heart like stone) ! 
A tear upon your cheek 



42 



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My sorrow to bespeak 

And you are gone! 
Will you return? . . . Too late! 
In vain I watch and wait — 

I am alone. 

foolish, stubborn youth 
That chooses to leave truth 

Thus all unspoke! 
Oh, strong and cruel will 
That can so trifle till 

Two hearts are broke! 
Dear, I was in the wrong — 

1 know it now, and long 
To tell you so. 

Your love was pure and true — 
I'm sorrowing but you 
Will never know. 



To 



Only a memory — 

Lines dim with age, you see, 

But ah, so true! 
Yon shines the same pale moon, 
And many a fragrant June 

(Since our adieu) 
Has come and gone, and yet 
Never will I forget 

That night and you. 



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BROWN STUDIES 



THE SCHOOLMA'AM'S VACATION 

From the busy life of a worker to the idleness of a 

guest ; 
From cares that fret to joys new-met; 
From drudgery to rest; 
From duties that bind and vex the mind. 
To the blue, blue sky and the summer wind; 
From dingy walls to boughs that bless 
My laziness! 

From the narrow aisles of the school-room to the 

meadowland stretching wide; 
From endless books to grassy nooks; 
From desk to river-side; 
From voices that ring with questioning 
To the ripening fields where the glad larks sing; 
From dull dry facts to dreams that throng 
With love and song! 

From a teacher weary of teaching to a student by 
Nature taught; 

From pens and ink to bowers pink with roses fragrance- 
fraught ; 

From days that can mean but dull routine 

To cool garden-walls where the lilies lean; 

From all things else to thy sweet charm — 
Valley Farm! 



44 



BROWN STUDIES 



OCTOBER 

Once more she is here, the fair rival of June, 

And her coming is wondrous as ever, 
For her footsteps are timed to a glorious tune — 

The tune that we tire of never; 
A song of the cheer she, ev'ry year, 

Has never yet failed to bring with her, 
And the old-time charm for town or farm 

As she gaily comes tripping hither. 

Russet and yellow and scarlet leaves; 

Vines where the clustering wild grapes cling; 
Harvests of apples and golden sheaves; 

Fragrance as sweet as the breath of spring. 

Was ever a summer so charming as this 

Sweet time of autumnal surprises'? 
How warm blow the breezes, yet soft as a kiss! 

Such sunsets and such sunrises! 
Through meadows, by burns, in fields of ferns, 

We wander in moods more sober, 
And mid the gleam of gold we dream 

The dreams that belong to October. 

Never had summer such gorgeous dress — 
Never such brilliance at morn or noon; 

Therefore October in loveliness 
Certainly outvies her rival June. 



45 



BROWN STUDIES 



THE MORNING SONG 

There's a dear little bird in the old cherry tree 
Just outside my window, that sings to me 
In the quiet hours of the early morn 
A song that is full of a hope newborn. 
I have hearkened the notes so wild and free, 
Till my heart is attuned to its minstrelsy, 
And all summer long, 'twas the same sweet song 
Of cheer and good comradery. 

Oh, it sang of the fruit hanging red on the trees, 
The ripening grain and the grassy leas, 
The fragrant blossoms with dew impearled, 
The children who come to brighten the world, 
The wonderful mountains, the healthful breeze, 
The beauty and grandeur of mighty seas; 
Such, so it seems, were the chosen themes 
Of these birdsong melodies. 

But in summer that tree was a green, green tower — 
A beautiful shelter from sun or shower 
For the resting-place of that tiny bird 
Whose song is the sweetest I've ever heard. 
Now the green has vanished with ev'ry flower, 
And the tree is changed to a red and gold bower, 
Where the bird still sings, and each morn still brings 
New joy to my waking hour. 

Oh, dear little bird in your bower so gay, 
You have made October as sweet as May; 

46 



BROWN STUDIES 



But the leaves of your bower will soon turn brown, 
Then the winds of November will bring them down, 
And the morning will dawn, all bleak and gray, 
When 111 waken to find you have flown away; 
But 'twill bring no pain, for the song will remain 
In my heart forever and aye. 



MAY 8, 1910 
Acrostic 

My soul to-day knows naught but memories — 
Environments of youth — clear sparkling streams, 
Meadows, and lanes, and field-paths, bright with gleams 
Of glorious summer sunshine; vines and trees 
Rustling their low responses to the breeze; 
In wreathing blossoms; songs of birds; it seems 
Each moment brings to me, in golden dreams, 
Sweet scenes, sweet scents, and sweet sounds such as 

these. 
Melt not away, dear dreams! I see the face 
Of that dear one whom I've not seen for long — 
The face of her whose love blessed the home-place. 
Hark, now I hear her voice! — an old-time song — 
Each note a benison to cheer my way — 
Restful and sweet and fitting to the day. 



47 



BROWN STUDIES 



A PROLOGUE 

Time never did begin and never ends; 

It is — and e'er has been and e'er will be 

An omnipresent vast eternity, 

Wherein each moment (though unheeded) lends 

Something to life that either mars or mends; 

Each day, gliding away so silently 

And swiftly, is an anniversary 

For gladness or regrets. 

And so, my friends, 
Let us now pause at this auspicious hour 
Wherein so many pasts and futures meet, 
And while the bells ring out so loud and clear, 
Resolve to overthrow with all our power 
The ghosts of past mistakes, and gladly greet 
The opportunities of this New Year. 

January 1, 1911. 



ACROSTIC 

How thrills the heart of him who, after years 
Of wandering, decides no more to roam! 
Music of voices long unheard now fills his ears, 
Echos of vanished joys, y«t tokens of sweet home ! 



48 



BROWN STUDIES 



DIVIDING LINES 

A shy sweet time of mingled rhyme, 

A low, soft interlude; 

A tender tune 'twixt morn and noon, 

When Childhood and Womanhood 

Meet on the banks of Time's swift stream, 

Pause, hesitate as in a dream, 

Gazing in thoughtful mood; 
One must away and one may stay — 

There's naught to interclude. 

Lo, as they stand in wonder and 

In doubt, from yonder wood 
Love doth appear, and drawing near, 

Sweet Love now doth interclude. 
Time beckons, ever flowing on; 
Behold! Childhood is vanished — gone! 

Love, be it understood, 
Hath gained the day to hold full sway 

With beauteous Womanhood. 



ACROSTIC 

Bread to the hungry lips; wine to the weak; 
Oasis to the weary eye that looks 
On desert wastes for long; boon to lone souls who seek 
Kindly companionship — sweet sympathy to bespeak; 
So is to me the blessed eomradery of books. 



49 



BROWN STUDIES 



THE DISTRICT SCHOOL 

I've a pleasant recollection 

Of a quiet farming section 

In a certain valley that I used to know, 

Where with slow but sure gradation 

I began my education 
In the land of Far-away and Long-ago. 

And the place where I was entered 

As a student was well centered, 

Standing on a strip of pasture flat and low, 
Where the country lads and lasses 
Romped around among the grasses, 

And the grazing cattle wandered to and fro. 

Oh, how well do I remember 
How each year, I, from September, 
With my dinner-pail trudged miles in rain or 
snow 

Until June roses were blooming; 

But let no one be presuming 
There was e'er a time I didn't want to go. 

Pumpkin College (I'll be candid) 

Was the name the school was handed 

At the time 'twas built, and neither friend 

nor foe 
E'er expressed a wish to change it, 
Although someone did arrange it 
Into plain P. C. — for brevity, I trow. 

50 



BROWN STUDIES 



And we had all sorts of teachers — 
Smart young men and fair girl-creatures, 
And for sake of change, a cross old 

maid or so; 
But they each one did their duty — 
And we learned! That was the beauty 
Of the good old-fashioned schools of long ago ! 

Those were days of "yes, ma'am," "no, 
ma'am," 
"Please may I speak?" and "May I go, 
ma'am?" 
And when classes to recite stood in a row. 
Then if rules should go unheeded 
And a punishment be needed, 
That was what the teacher hastened to bestow. 

"Jogfry," history, and grammar 
Patiently they all did hammer, 
The way we learned the three R's was 

not slow — 
Oh, we stored up useful knowledge 
By the peck at Pumpkin College 
In the land of Far-away and Long-ago. 



51 



BROWN STUDIES 



THE TRUE INTERPRETER 

Who is the one of the dwellers on earth 
That in seasons of sadness or of mirth, 
In palace or hovel, from short to shore, 
'Mongst beautiful faces the wide world o'er, 
Finds graces more lovely and charms more rare 
In the face of a child unspoiled by care ? 
Oh, 'tis he who has toiled with a parent's pride 
Or she who has prayed by the cradle-side. 

Who understands it, the heart of that child, 

So innocent, pure, and undefiled? 

'Tis he who has hearkened the laughter gay 

Of his own happy little ones at play — 

Or she who has sat in the twilight deep 

Rocking and crooning her babes to sleep. 

Oh, the heart of a child, with its joys and woes, 

Only a father or mother knows. 



52 



BROWN STUDIES 



THE THREE GRACES 
Acrostic 

Fresh, sweet, and cool the west winds come and go 
And wander here and there and to and fro. 
I see them not, and yet I know they blow ! 
Thus in life's purpose would appear no wraith 
Had we but this same certitude of faith. 

How fair the rays of winter sun now fall 
Over the rain-wet grasses of yon slope ! 
Peerlessly bright so comes to my sad soul 
Ever the golden glimmerings of hope. 

Charity — covering for a host of sins! — 
How good to meet with it amongst the ins 
And outs of life where oft lurks calumny! 
Rare is that one of us who would not say 
It was, will be, and is — to cheer our way — 
The grace most needed by humanity, 
Yesterday and to-morrow and to-day. 



53 



BROWN STUDIES 



TOWN AND COUNTRY DREAMS 

By two firesides brightly gleaming 

Sit two women, each one dreaming 

Of the days of long ago too quickly spent; 

And each deems the past more pleasant 

Than the busy, dizzy present, 
And their hearts are filled with bitter discontent. 

One's a dweller in the city, 

And her home is small but pretty — 

Just a grassy plot and cosy bungalow; 

But she don't want such near neighbors. 

And no matter how she labors 
'Tis not like the dear old home she used to know. 

For she was a farmer's daughter 

Till a city lad besought her 

To become his ever true and loving wife, 

Which she did with zest and laughter, 

And was sorry ever after, 
For she found she did not like a city life. 

Now the children that came to her, 

It would seem, might help to woo her 

Into paths of sweet contentment; but not so! 

'Tis for sake of their sweet childhood 

She longs for the country wildwood 
And a home like that old home she used to know. 

But her husband works for wages, 
And it seems to her as ages 

54 



BROWN STUDIES 



Since the time when they could e'er afford a day 

Just to spend in pure enjoyment. 

Then the times of "no employment' ' 
Also help to make her thoughts moody and gray. 
• ••••• 

In the country dwells the other; 

She too is a wife and mother, 

And her husband is "the man behind the hoe." 

Their farmhouse is wide and roomy, 

But she thinks it very gloomy, 
For 'tis not the dear old home she used to know. 

She was once a city maiden, 

And her pathways had been laden 

With the pleasures that belong to city life; 
But a country laddie wooed her, 
And henceforth "misunderstood" her, 

For she did not want to be a farmer's wife! 

'Tis to her a tribulation 

That her children's education 

Must be trusted to a country school, and oh, 
As she rests now from her labors 
How she longs for "next door neighbors" 

And a home like that old home she used to know. 

She could stand the work, if only 

She were not so very lonely; 

And it seems her husband cannot spare a day 

Just to spend in pure enjoyment. 

'Tis continuous employment 
That has helped to make her thoughts moody and gray. 



55 



BROWN STUDIES 



So by these two firesides gleaming 

These two women still sit dreaming, 

Till the bright noonday of life is quickly spent ; 

And their homes that might be pleasant 

Are the scenes of ever-present 
Bickerings, disputes, and ditter discontent. 

Why, dear hearts, such useless fretting 

For those things you can't be getting? 

Seize the jo}^ that daily in your pathway lies, 
And you'll instantly discover 
Home is home the wide world over 

And 'tis up to you to make it paradise. 

THE HOME CITY 
Acrostic 

Yonder thy namesake's crest towers gleaming, 

0, thou City Beautiful! 

Under the golden sunshine streaming, 

Lucidly calm, thy sea lies dreaming, 

Lazily kissed by the breezes cool. 

Lawn and park and garden vying 
In a blossomy perfume; 
Knoll and nook and terrace lying — 
Evidence of brilliant bloom. 

Thou hast been home, and thou shalt still be, 

And thou art called, and ever will be, 

City of Destiny. 

Oh, how with pride thy beauties fill me! 

My homesick heartstrings, how they'd thrill me 

Afar were I from thee! 

56 



BROWN STUDIES 



AFTER DINNER DREAMS 

'Tis the hour just after dining. 

In two easy chairs reclining, 

Each with feet perched on the table of his den, 

Lost in pipe-dream variations 

And cigar smoke cogitations, 
At the good ripe age of forty, sit two men. 

One's a husband and a father 

Cumbered with the cost and bother 

Of a business, and a house, and children three, 

And a wife with tastes expensive; 

So he ponders, quite defensive, 
And at times he almost wishes he were free. 

If he only had stayed single! 

He can almost hear the jingle 

Of the coin he'd have in plenty ev'ry day! 

And life might be just as cheerful — 

Anyway, 'tis simply fearful, 
Just to think of all the bills he has to pay. 

Telephone, gas, light, and water, 
Singing lessons for his daughter; 
Groceries and meat and laundry bills galore! 

Then the milkman and the baker, 

And the tailor and dressmaker — 
Oh, it fairly makes him blue to count them o'er! 

Big assessments, too, and taxes. 
While the earth turns on its axis 

57 



BROWN STUDIES 



Such as he must hustle just the best he can; 

Then his thoughts begin to wander 

And he, calmer grown and fonder, 
Knows he'd not exchange his place with any man. 

Wifie (bless the little woman) 

Makes mistakes (to err is human) ; 

But she's just the sweetest wife a man could get; 

And Marie, Jack, and the baby — 

They're a bit expensive, maybe, 
But he's glad he's got the darlings, yes, you bet! 
• • • • • • • 

And how goes it with the other? 

He lives with his "dear, old mother" 

Having firmly vowed "no wedding bells for him!" 

So now as he smokes and ponders 

Over this and that, he wonders 
Why his life of late seems barren of all vim. 

Nothing's quite as he expected 

After all. He's quite dejected — 

Mother's growing old, he'll soon be left alone; 

And the thought is most distressful. 

His career has been successful 
In a business way, but what's the use of own- 
ing so much cash with none to spend it? 
Life's so dull he fain would end it! 
There were lots of girls he could have had, you bet! 

But he waited long in choosing. 

Then at last he falls to musing 
O'er the girls he would have had, but couldn't get. 

Would he really be more happy 
As a husband and a pappy? 

58 



BROWN STUDIES 



Is the question that he asks himself, and he,- 
After all the years he's tarried — 
Almost wishes he were married 

And the father of a little family. 

Then he spies the evening papers 

And reads all the sporting capers, 

Notices of births and deaths and newly wed, 

Lenghty woman's rights discourses, 

And a long list of divorces; 
Then he smiles contentedly and goes to bed. 



AFTER RAIN 

What is so rare as a day after a fall-rain in Washington! And 
June roses are still blooming.— Tacorna Daily Ledger, September 20, 
1910. 

Throughout the world to seek would be in vain 

'Mongst Nature's beauties, for there's naught so 

rare 
As this — a day spent in the open air, 

Where, all night long, the passive earth has lain 

Cooled and refreshed by heavy autumn rain; 
Made sweet, as if in June, by roses fair 
And rich with ripened fruits, from ev'rywhere 

Sending forth spicy fragrances. 

I fain 
Would linger long in pathways such as these 

And deem the halcyon hours as time well spent; 

Courting the fond caress of wind and sun, 
The sympathy of flowers and grass and trees, 
Blest with the fresh new hope, the calm content 

Of an autumn day in western Washington. 

59 



BROWN STUDIES 



A DAY'S RECKONING 

What is woman's life 
When Destiny's keen-edged knife, 
Cleaving chaotic night away, 
Reveals a tremulous Break o' Day, 

And golden grows the sky? 
Kisses, slumber, calm content, 
Small eyes that gaze in wonderment; 
Fond mother-prayers to heaven sent, 
And low lullabies, breathed tenderly; 
Thus is Innocence, Truth, and Purity 

With Faith eternal blent, 
While the angels watch on high, 

And golden grows the sky. 

What is woman's life 
When Youth's dewy joys are rife — 
When the brow of Morning, just begun, 
Is warmly kissed by the rising sun, 

And rosy is the sky? 
Music, mirth, and laughter gay; 
A little work, a deal of play, 
And dreaming of idle hours away; 
While yon broad vista stretches bright, 
Viewed ever thus, in the rosy light 

Of Hope's eternal ray. 
Oh, the shining moments fly 

When rosy is the sky! 

60 



BROWN STUDIES 



What is woman's life 

As maiden and as wife, 

When Morn has changed to burning Noon, 

And passion's storm-clouds dim too soon 

The azure of the sky? 
Draughts of pleasure, rich and rare, 
Mutt 'rings of doubt and clouds of care, 
Fears, blasted hopes, storms of despair — 
Then lo! a haven of welcome rest, 
With balm for weary hearts depressed, 

And Love eternal there, 
While the years glide swiftly by, 

And azure is the sky. 

What is woman's life 
When ends the day's long strife 
And she, serene in the fading light, 
Awaits the swift on-coming night 

While dull-gray is the sky? 
Lurking shadows, dense and deep, 
All silently around her creep, 
While mem'ries long, long vigils keep; 
Then, when the last good-night is said, 
How welcome is the narrow bed, 

Eternal Peace, and Sleep! 
'Tis beautiful thus to die, 

When dull-gray is the sky. 



61 



DEC 18 1311 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



mm 



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